


En Flambé

by mechahotwings



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dating, Drinking, Fellatio, Gender-Neutral Smut, Gender-neutral Reader, Optional Smut, Oral Sex, Other, Romance, Smut, Smut is the final chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6543145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechahotwings/pseuds/mechahotwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What can I get you?” Grillby asked from behind the bar. </p><p>“Mind if I pick something cute from you?”  You lean towards the bartender in a conspiratorial way. “I'm certain you know how to make a blue blazer?”</p><p>Grillby's face lightened where his mouth would be, and you got the impression it was a smile.  “It’s my favorite drink to make, but no one ever asks.  I’ll put on a show for you.”  There was a flicker where one of his eyes were and you wondered if it was a wink or a stray spark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue Blazer

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Undertale or any of its characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work on this site and the first fanfiction that I've posted online in several years. I apologize in advance if the formatting is incorrect in this chapter and I will try to fix it. This story is going to be relatively short with just a few chapters.

The night air was cold and crisp. Your breath plumed in the air as you walked, one of your hands shoved into your coat pocket and the other clutching a piece of paper with the address of your destination on it. Word was going around that there was a bar that served the best mixed drinks in town and that it catered to humans and monsters, though monsters were the main patrons. That didn't bother you any; monsters were people too. They could be a little bit scary at times, but the ones you had met so far had been nothing but kind. 

The first snowflakes began to fall when you spotted the orange glow of a neon sign that proudly proclaimed a particular restaurant to be Grillby's. Soft, yellow light filtered out of the windows and splashed onto the concrete. You could see several monsters talking amongst themselves, and there were even a few humans as well. Eager to get out of the cold, you slipped through the doors and into the warm building. 

The place was crowded and filled with the dull roar of chatter. An antique jukebox played 80s pop ballads from the corner. Despite the amount of people, there were a couple of open seats at the bar. You slid onto a bar stool and took a look at the bartender. He was hot. Literally. He was a being of pure fire. From what you had read online, this was Grillby. He wore a classy uniform, and it looked stylish on him. Glasses perched upon his face. You could see two bright pinpricks of light behind his lenses. A gentle warmth was radiating off of him

You scrutinized the shelves of bottles behind the bar. Some were glowing. Some looked ancient. Some even let out occasional puffs of colored smoke. Mixed within all that with no order known to you were brands of liquor that you recognized. 

“What can I get you?” Grillby asked from behind the bar. 

“Mind if I pick something cute from you?” You lean towards the bartender in a conspiratorial way. “I'm certain you know how to make a blue blazer?”

Grillby's face lightened where his mouth would be, and you got the impression it was a smile. “It’s my favorite drink to make, but no one ever asks. I’ll put on a show for you.” There was a flicker where one of his eyes were and you wondered if it was a wink or a stray spark. Grillby stood from his position of leaning against the bar counter and he straightened his black bow tie and brushed imaginary dirt from his black vest. 

You leaned forward onto the bar, watching Grillby with rapt attention as he set a small pot of water on a hotplate to boil then he placed a large espresso cup in front of you. Carefully, he measured out some sugar and lemon peel and placed it into the cup. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from one of the shelves behind him and set it down on the bar in front of you, placed two metal beer mugs next to the scotch, and picked up the pot of water. It was hot; you could see the vapor curling off the top. Grillby placed his hand a few inches from the bottom of the pot and a concentrated jet of fire erupted from his palm, heating up the metal. By now, the whole bar was looking. In mere moments, you could hear that the water had come to a rolling boil. 

With fluid movements, Grillby poured the boiling water into one of the mugs before quickly adding the scotch. Fire jumped from his hand and into the metal mug as he reached for the second. One of the mugs was ablaze with a cone of blue-tinged fire. 

“When I was in the Underground, I found a book about bar tending.” He poured the contents of the full mug into the empty one from a small distance. The fire never sputtered out. “Mentioned in the book was a man named Jerry Thomas.” He increased the distance between the two mugs and poured again, and your eyes were glued to the liquid inferno sloshing around. Grillby was acting nonchalant, but you could see that the flames in his face had gotten brighter from excitement. You could hear the other patrons murmuring appreciation, but with how fixated you were on the monster in front of you, you and Grillby could have been the only ones in the world. “The book is what got me into bar tending.” The distance had increased for his third pass. You couldn’t clearly see Grillby’s eyes, but you were sure that they were focused on you. “The blue blazer was the drink I put the most effort into learning.” For the fourth and final pass, Grillby poured the drink from as high as he could reach into the empty mug below. He filled your espresso cup with the liquid still burning. A big grin split your cheeks as the fire was extinguished with the bottom of one of the mugs. 

“That was amazing.” You gushed as the other patrons cheered. 

“Thanks.” He was quiet again, his attention diverted as some other patrons came up to the bar to order drinks. His cheeks looked that they had lightened to an orange-yellow. You sat and drank slowly after the cocktail had cooled. After all the theatrics, the blue blazer was just a glorified scotch toddy. Grillby was still attending to other patrons when you had finished your drink. You decided to watch him work. 

His hands were quick and steady; always sure and calculating. You watched as his shoulders shifted underneath his vest as he used his cocktail shaker. Grillby was lean, but not wiry. There were definitely muscles present, but they were lithe, like a swimmer’s. Come to think of it, did Grillby even have muscles or skin? He appeared to be a being of pure fire, but there was substance there. You could hear the weight behind his footfalls, so there had to be something under the flames that licked up his skin. Surely, he was able to control the temperature of his fire, or he would have been an inferno behind the bar. Yellows, oranges, and some reds swirled and flickered around his being. It was mesmerizing. You watched as the shadows danced around him and you saw the pinpricks of light in the eyes of his patrons that reflected his fire. He was beautiful. Grillby turned his head towards you, and you quickly averted your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t just staring at him. 

Once he had finished serving his patrons, he came back up to you and leaned forward on the bar, his forearms resting on the wood. “You certainly stirred up business.” His voice was a soft hiss, the sound of a match igniting after it was struck. “Do you know of any other showy drinks? I’m at a bit of a loss.” 

“That was the show stopper.” You smiled, looking down. Your finger was mere inches from his arm, and you could feel a soft warmth radiating off of him. “There’s flair bar tending, if you’ve heard of that, but it looks like it’d be messy to practice.”

“I’ve seen it.” Grillby adjusted his glasses. “You humans come up with some interesting things.” 

“I know a few more drinks that get ignited.” Your voice was quiet, just loud enough over the din of the bar for him to hear. “I’ll be sure to come in again next week and try them.” You looked up at him. At this distance, you could see his eyes behind the lenses. They were bright white and seemed to be looking you over. That was only a guess though, they didn’t have pupils or anything else to indicate the direction of his stare. 

“I’m looking forward to making them.” 

You smiled up at him. “May I?” You gestured to his hand on the table.

“Ah. You’re not the first to ask.” He let out a crackling sound that sounded like a chuckle as he offered his hand out to you. Tentatively, you reached out and touched it lightly with your fingers, your palm sliding over his. As to be expected, he was warm. It seemed like his “skin” was something more akin to a membrane that gave his body a suppleness like human flesh. You watched the swirls of yellow and orange underneath, wondering if it was some sort of liquid. The flames harmlessly passed over your skin. Curiosity sated, you retracted your hand. 

“Thanks.” You could feel your cheeks flush a little. You hoped that it came across that you were curious rather than flirtatious. “It was nice meeting you Grillby, but I’ve gotta head out. How much do I owe you?” 

“One moment; I’ll ring you up.” He turned and walked to his register, pressing a few buttons on the display before printing out the receipt. He handed it to you and you looked at the bill. You grabbed your wallet and opened it to count out some bills as another patron asked him for a drink. You left your money on the counter with the receipt before you stuffed your wallet back into your pocket. There was enough there to pay for the drinks and to leave a very generous tip. You stood up and exited the bar, walking back out into the cold night.

  


The week seemed to drag before you were able to drive back to Grillby's, but the days always seemed to crawl by whenever you wanted to go back there. The day had been busier than usual and you hoped you could mask your tiredness. More flurries of snow had fallen, and the ground was now blanketed by a few inches of white. You were relieved when you got inside and took a seat at the bar. Grillby was helping a customer at the moment, so you shrugged off your coat and waited patiently. Your stomach growled and you placed a hand on it for a moment. You shouldn’t have skipped lunch today, but it was just so busy. Since he was preoccupied, you took the time to think about what you wanted from him. You had ordered every flaming drink you could think of over the past few weeks: Bailey’s comet, backdraft, flaming B-52, and a flaming asshole (which Grillby and the other patrons got a kick out of). He seemed to enjoy learning these new human drinks for you, and often voiced his appreciation for you expanding his repertoire. Finally, Grillby turned to you. 

“Welcome back.” The flames on his face seemed to shift into a more yellow hue. “What’ll it be?” 

“Something easy.” You smiled. “Do you know how to make a flaming Dr. Pepper?” 

“I’ve never heard of it.” He admitted, leaning on the bar towards you. 

“Alright, so what you do is you take a shot glass and fill it three-quarters of the way with amaretto liqueur and then you top it off with 151 proof rum.” You watched as his molten fingers tapped on the table as you told him which drink to use. “Then you put the shot glass in another glass and fill it up with beer to the level of the shot glass before you ignite it. Just give me some Bud Light for the beer.”

Grillby got to work, following your instructions to the letter. When it came time to ignite it, he made a show of breathing a tongue of flame onto your drink, lighting the top layer of rum into a blue flame. You waited for a moment, letting it burn for a bit before you blew the flame out and slammed the drink down. It tasted just like a Dr. Pepper. 

“Would you like another?” You could see a thin, white line curl up where his mouth was. Was he smirking at you? 

“Please.” A loud growl erupted from your stomach, but it was drowned out by the conversing patrons and the jukebox blaring some classic rock song. “Do you serve food here?” Grillby nodded and reached under the bar and slid you a laminated menu. A majority of it was greasy, fried foods perfect for a bar. “I’ll have a burger.” Grillby nodded and slipped out of the bar and behind a set of doors that you were sure led to the kitchen. He was back a moment later to make you your second drink before attending to the other patrons. You slammed down your second drink. Eventually, a waitress came out and set a burger in front of you. It was delicious and you felt yourself getting fuller the more you ate and more nourished, like you were eating your favorite comfort food. A lazy smile spread across your face. You dug in as Grillby walked over to you. Your mouth was full of burger, so you just motioned for him to give you a third. When your mouth was empty, you slammed that drink down too. You were starting to get tipsy. After the fourth drink, you were definitely tipsy. Maybe even drunk. You usually didn’t get like this when you came. The empty stomach you had in the beginning must have taken its toll. Idly, you wondered if the burger you ate would even absorb the alcohol. 

“I’m going to cut you off now. You’re going to need to be able to drive home eventually.” 

“Sure thing, Grillbz.” You drawled, watching him with a dopey grin on your face as he took up your glass. “Hey, can you give me my bill so I can pay you now?”

Grillby nodded and put the receipt in front of you. You put your debit card on top of it and he took it to his register. Had you ever noticed before just how pretty he was? The flames on his head danced and his whole body glowed. What if you left your phone number on the receipt you gave back to him with a big tip? No, that would be bad. You wouldn’t want to imply that he was obligated to call you. When he came back, you lightly placed your hand on top of his when he put your card, receipt, and a pen on the counter. Grillby looked up at you and tilted his head to the side in a silent question. 

“Can I have your number?” More yellows flickered to his face. He seemed to be scrutinizing you. “I-I mean, only if you want to give it. You just seem like a really cool guy--” Grillby picked up the pen and began writing on the back of one of the receipts. It was his phone number. You mentally congratulated yourself. and stuffed the paper into your pocket. 

“I’m free on Saturdays.” 

“That’s tomorrow, right?” 

Grillby nodded, handing the pen back to you to fill out his copy of the receipt. You filled it out, giving him an appropriate tip. You struggled with the math for figuring out the total for just a moment before your brain finally churned out the answer. “Do you wanna go out? To the art museum or something? Do you like that kind of thing? We can go somewhere else if you don’t.” 

“I’d like that.” Grillby took the receipt and went to put it in the register before attending to more patrons. You waited for a few minutes before he came back to you. 

“Would you want to meet up at three at the museum on Pearl Street downtown? We can go out to eat somewhere afterwards.” 

“Pearl Street at three.” He repeated, his voice a soft crackle. “I’ll see you then, but you’ll still have to stay here until you’re sober enough to drive.” Grillby gave you a playful pat on your hand before helping out another customer. You could feel that your cheeks had warmed. That went well. That went really well. 

The rest of the night was fairly uneventful. You and Grillby talked casually between the drinks he made and served to the other customers. The feeling of being tipsy had slowly faded until you weren’t even buzzed anymore and you were sober enough to drive. You wished Grillby a good night and began your walk back to your car, your shoes crunching in the snow as you went outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! I'm thinking about having smut at the end, but I'd love to hear your feedback on the idea.


	2. Penne For Your Thoughts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow the response on this has really blown me away and I'm glad you guys like it so much! We're nearing the end, and I've decided to put in an optional smut chapter at the very end (and try very hard to keep it gender-neutral). I'll mark it in the chapters list for those of you who don't want to read it and I'll be bumping up the rating of the fic when I get there.

You had gotten to the museum early, having bought passes for the special exhibit as you waited for Grillby. It had taken you a while to pick out an outfit, as you wanted to dress nicely, but not too nicely. You wanted to be at least a little casual. Sitting on the bench in the spacious room you were in, you felt cold. The wall opposite you was glass, and you could see people milling about on the sidewalk. Suddenly, you felt a hand tap on your shoulder, and you looked up. Grillby was standing by you, dressed warmly. He was in a black pea coat and a crisp pair of jeans with black dress shoes. There was a red scarf wrapped around his neck and he was wearing the socks to match. His hands were covered by black leather gloves. The only thing that wasn’t covered was his face, which was a bright orange-yellow. 

“Good afternoon. How are you?” He greeted, his bright eyes meeting yours. 

“I’m great now that you’re here.” You replied, giving him a sly smile. His cheeks lightened in color as he shrugged off his coat to reveal a red button down shirt. 

“You look nice.” 

“Thank you. You’re looking _radiant_ , as always.” You schmoozed. Grillby let out a laugh that sounded like a crackling fire. It was one of your favorite sounds. 

Grillby offered his arm to you, which surprised you, but you looped your arm in his anyways. He was so warm, like sitting by a fireplace, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The two of you strolled through the museum, taking your time amongst the different galleries. Grillby took the time to appreciate each work the two of you came across, and you were slowly guiding him to the special exhibit where a clerk was waiting to take your tickets. The two of you stepped through the doors, and Grillby stopped when he got in, taking in the sight of the installations. 

It was a Chihuly art exhibit. Vibrantly colored glass was carefully displayed in the gallery, with shapes ranging from crimped disks, to spikes, and organic curlicues. Grillby’s arm slipped out of yours as he flitted from piece to piece. He circled around a chandelier that looked like fire frozen in time; his head craned upwards to view it from every angle he could. He gazed at suspended starbursts of green, blue, and yellow. He scrutinized the garden of flower-like discs carefully arranged on the wall. The glass caught his firelight, seeming more alive as he made his way around the artwork. You openly watched him, the flames on his face shifting to dark reds and burnt orange. Grillby was fascinated, and you were glad that this outing was such a success. He stopped suddenly and turned to face you, yellows creeping into his cheeks. He seemed almost sheepish. 

“I’m sorry, I--” He began, but you cut him off.

“Don’t let me stop you from having a good time. Just enjoy the exhibit.” You shrugged dismissively, not bothered in the slightest. 

“You’re the reason why I’m having a good time.” Grillby shook his head and made his way back towards you and put a light hand on your shoulder. You felt your cheeks reddening, and you hoped he wouldn’t notice. “There isn't any art in the Underground as beautiful as this.”

“What was it like down there?”

“It was much slower than life here. Everything felt stagnant.” Gently, he guided you through the works, stopping every so often to view the art pieces. “However, we weren’t without hope. We were close-knit, and life was peaceful.” He paused in front of a multi-colored glass bubble. It was cobalt blue with deep indigo streaks. “I’d like to show you something after dinner.” 

You arched an eyebrow as the two of you continued to walk through the gallery. You walked in comfortable silence as you made your way around the glass, simply content to be in each other’s company. Finally, the museum closed and the two of you were ushered out. The sky was turning orange and pink as the sun began to set. Grillby took a moment to observe the sky before he continued to walk. 

“Do you know where you’d like to eat?” You asked. He still had your arm in his, and you enjoyed the warmth that radiated off of him and shielded you from the cold air. His free hand rubbed through the fire on his head before he answered. 

“Let’s try that place over there.” He pointed to an Italian restaurant nestled between two tall brick buildings. The two of you walked inside, ducking out of the cold. The hostess greeted the two of you warmly, and she led you to a booth. As you passed the other diners, you heard a kid say, “Mama, that man’s head is on _fire_!” 

“Honey, it’s not nice to point.” 

You felt a smile curl up your lips as you sat down after taking off your coat. Grillby’s head was like a beacon in the dimly lit room. He had taken his gloves off, and his warm hands rested on the table. Tentatively, you put a hand on top of his. 

“You’re _freezing_.” His voice was a low crackle as he squeezed your fingers. 

“hey grillbz.”

You flinched and looked up. There was a short skeleton wearing a waiter’s uniform and a big grin. The pinpricks of his eyes were alight, and he handed the two of you menus. You hadn’t seen or heard him come to the table-- he was just there. 

“my name’s sans.” He looked between the two of you. “is this a date?” Sans playfully ribbed Grillby with his elbow. 

“Yes.” Grillby replied, adjusting his glasses. You could see the white line of a smirk on his face. 

“aren’t you lucky?” Sans asked, looking at you. “you landed a _hot_ one.” 

“Oh. My God.” You groaned, smiling anyways. You could see Grillby’s cheeks turn more yellowish. 

“what’s wrong, grillbz? you look a little _warm_.” 

“This is the worst.” You laughed. 

“anyways, _water_ you two gonna have to drink?” 

You ordered a water while Grillby ordered a coffee. Sans came back with your drinks quickly, but he left again to give you enough time to look over your menus. 

“He's a friend of mine and one of my regulars.” He answered your unspoken question.

“It's a date, huh?” You teased. 

“It is now.” He said with an air of finality, putting down his menu. Once you decided your order, you put down your menu and waited patiently for Sans to come back. You flinched again when Sans appeared in a literal blink of an eye. Grillby was unfazed. 

“are you ready to taglia _tell_ e me your orders?” He asked, a pen and notepad at the ready. 

“Your puns are _spirali_ out of control.” You groaned. 

“it’s not _mafalde_.” He winked at you and you heard a snort. Grillby was cracking up, his mouth becoming a gaping maw with jagged flames for teeth. The area inside was a white-yellow, burning brighter than his face. You tried not to stare. 

“You’re being fu _silli_. He’s about to far _fall_ e apart.” 

Grillby continued to laugh, and heat radiated intensely from him in short, staccato bursts. 

“whoops. can’t have you burnin’ the place down, grillbz. what’ll you be spa _ghett_ i tonight?” Sans waited patiently as Grillby composed himself and told Sans his order. You ordered spaghetti and meatballs after him and Sans walked off again. 

“Did you drive out here?” You asked Grillby as he took your hand in his again, warm fingertips tracing over your knuckles. 

“No. I took the tram. My apartment isn’t too far away from the station.” 

“I can drive us out to the thing you want to show me, if you’d like.” 

“It would be just a short drive to my apartment.” 

You pursed your lips. Was he being extremely forward? He didn’t seem to be the type to do that. “I read a report on the Underground not too long ago. It said that there was an area full of lava. Maybe it’s a bit presumptuous of me to ask this, but are you from there?” 

“I lived in Hotland originally, yes.” Grillby nodded. “I moved to Snowdin eventually though. It was an area where there was constant snow, and there was a forest of pine trees to the west. It was beautiful. I miss it sometimes.” His voice was low as he turned your hand over and traced his fingertips along the veins of your wrist. 

“You mentioned having a bar there.”

“It’s not too different than the one I have now.” Grillby nodded. “Just a bit smaller.”

Grillby didn’t talk about his past much since you had met him. When you came in, he’d ask you about your day, tell you funny stories about patrons who had come in since the last time you had visited, discussed the current efforts of politicians creating human-monster legislation, or he would ask you about the news and what certain human groups were. 

“I think King Asgore has recently opened up the Underground for--”

“GRILLBY!” A tall skeleton wearing a cook’s uniform and a tall chef hat accompanied Sans to your table, cutting off what you had to say. He was covered in sauce stains and a limp noodle hung over his shoulder. Everyone in the restaurant turned at the commotion. Sans turned to you as he put your orders and breadsticks onto the table. 

“this is my brother, papyrus. he insisted on coming out from the kitchen when he heard grillbz brought a date here.” Sans chuckled and winked at you. 

“MY BROTHER TOLD ME THAT YOU BROUGHT THIS HUMAN HERE--” Papyrus put a hand on your shoulder as he faced Grillby “--ON A DATE WITH YOU. SO I, BEING THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND _MASTER_ DATING EXPERT, PREPARED YOUR MEALS!” He announced happily. 

Heat rose to your cheeks and you took a glance over at Grillby. He remained calm and collected. He must have been used to this yelling skeleton. 

“NOW HUMAN, FEAST UPON MY MASTERPIECE THAT WILL ENHANCE YOUR DATING EXPERIENCE SO YOU CAN FALL IN LOVE WITH GRILLBY!” 

Everyone was staring. You were so embarrassed you could die. Papyrus was looking at you expectantly, so you picked up your fork and twirled some noodles onto it before taking a bite. It was good. You gave Papyrus a thumbs-up as you chewed. 

“I’M GLAD YOU LIKE THE FOOD THAT I, THE GREAT CHEF PAPYRUS MADE YOU. I MUST NOW RETURN TO THE KITCHEN SO THAT THE OTHER CUSTOMERS MAY TASTE MY CULINARY CREATIONS.” 

Papyrus practically strutted back into the kitchen, his chest swollen with pride. You looked at Sans, who shrugged. 

“i’ll leave you two alone now. i’ll come back in a bit.” 

“Oh my God.” You mumbled when he was out of earshot, putting your face in your hands.

“Papyrus can be overbearing at times, but he has good intentions.” Grillby said gently, spearing food onto his fork. His jagged mouth opened again and you couldn’t stop yourself from watching as he brought his food to his face. Grillby’s cheeks turned a bright yellow with white splotches. 

“Oh--I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just that it looks really cool.” You averted your eyes from him and focused on your plate. 

“Do you know of any more artists who work with glass?” Grillby asked after a moment's pause. 

You hummed in thought, your eyes sliding back up to him. “There’s Tiffany, I suppose. He made a lot of stained glass lamps and windows.” You paused to take a bite before continuing. “I don’t think any galleries around here have his work though.” 

“There was a hall in the underground with high, vaulted ceilings and marble pillars,” Grillby began, his voice quiet. “It was always bright with magic light-- there was no sun, save for a few pockets of sunlight scattered around the Underground, but we had that light source-- and the light would come through rows of stained glass windows and the whole hall shone gold.”

“It sounds beautiful. It was in the news that Asgore has opened up the Underground for tourists. Maybe, if you’d like, you can show me sometime.” 

Grillby hummed and continued to eat. You sensed it would be best to change the direction of the conversation. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about some of the drinks you have behind your bar. I keep forgetting-- especially when I get a bit tipsy.” A shy smile curled at your lips as Grillby looked up to you. “I noticed that some of the bottles have puffs of smoke coming out of them? What are those?”

Grillby nodded and you saw a flicker of amusement cross his face. “Monster drinks. As you may have heard, monster food is infused with magic. Legally, I can’t serve magic drinks to human patrons until they’ve been approved by the FDA.”

“Are they harmless to humans?”

“ _Some_ of them.” Grillby drawled, his voice sizzling at the beginning. “From what I’ve heard from some of my friends is that the magic effects are more pronounced on humans. Since monster bodies are made of magic, it doesn’t have nearly the same strength of effect on us.”

You nodded, watching intently as he spoke between bites. “So if I were to drink a monster drink, I’d get drunk faster?”

“That, and there are other side effects to some of the drinks. One of the smokey drinks you are referring to is magicked to be sour. It gives monster drinks a pleasant zing to it, and it gives gentle shocks of electricity along the taste receptors. If you were to drink it, however…” He trailed off for a moment and tapped his fingertips on the table. “It would burn your mouth. _Severely_.” 

“Oh.” You were disappointed. “What _can_ I drink, though?” 

Grillby’s flames crackled as he thought for a moment. “If you would like, I can serve you a drink I’m certain you’d be able to handle.” 

“That’d be nice.” The both of you had finished eating your dinners and you rested your hand on top of his. Grillby’s hue began to shift to a soft red-orange. Maybe someday, you’d learn what all these shifts in color meant. 

Not too long after, Sans arrived to collect your empty plates. “got any room for something sweet, or are you gonna _dessert_ me?” He winked. 

“I’m full.” You shook your head. “Would you like dessert, Grillby?” 

Grillby shook his head and straightened in his chair. “No, thank you.”

“We’re gonna _split_.” You grinned up at Sans. “I’ll take care of the check.” Grillby began to protest, but you shook your head and held your hands up. “Grillby, I said I was gonna take _you_ out today. You can pick up the tab next time.” 

He begrudgingly acquiesced as you passed Sans your debit card. Quicker than you thought possible, he had deposited your dishes somewhere in the back and had already ran your card through the register. Sans returned your card and passed you a receipt to sign. You gave Sans a generous tip and totalled up your tab, signing at the bottom before passing it back. 

“grillby, i’ll _check_ on you at the bar on monday.”

The fire monster let out a huff as he stood up and began shrugging his jacket on. You had the distinct impression that he was rolling his eyes, if the sparks around his face gave any indication, but he gave a friendly clap onto Sans’s shoulder before the two of you headed back outside. To your surprise, Grillby wrapped his arms around your shoulder as you walked back to your car. You turned into him gratefully, happy that he warded off the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not familiar with Chihuly artwork, I strongly recommend you check it out; it's gorgeous.


	3. Passion Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meant to be an ending for those of you who do not want to read the smut. The smut that will be posted tomorrow is completely optional. I'll still put a warning in the chapter title. I'll also be bumping up the rating of this fic and adding more tags tomorrow before I post the final chapter. 
> 
> When Grillby shows you your soul, I purposely didn't write a descriptive color. The color of your soul is whatever you feel it should be because this reader insert is centered around you.

The drive to Grillby's apartment passed in comfortable silence, save for the intermittent directions that he gave you. Finally, you pulled up into the gated complex and parked under a tin canopy. From what you could see, he lived in a good apartment complex. You'd heard stories of discriminating landlords refusing to rent to monsters and that many other monsters were unable to buy homes. Grillby must have been one of the lucky ones, you thought, trailing behind him as he ascended the stairs. 

His apartment was on the third floor, the topmost floor, and he fumbled with his keys for a moment before he unlocked the door and let you inside. Both of you removed your shoes as you crossed the threshold, and as he shut and locked the door behind you, you took a cursory glance around the room. 

The interior was inviting and warm. You could feel how plush the beige carpet underneath your feet was. The living room contained a dark brick fireplace and it was the central point that the plush leather furniture was centered around. There was a medium-sized television on the wall above the fireplace. An untidy stack of newspapers were on top of the coffee table, and the newest of them was open to the weekly crossword.

“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll mix you a drink.”

You did as you were asked, sitting on the love seat and sinking down into it. Grillby made his way into the kitchen and you watched him open the stainless steel fridge and stared at its contents for a moment before speaking again. 

“I have the ingredients to make you a Passion Punch, but I’m going to have to dilute it down for you.”

“‘Passion Punch’?” You echoed. 

“It’s… well, it makes monsters more amorous-- the effect is minimal though. “ He amended when you raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen a human drink it, so I’m going to have use only tiny amounts of magic.”

Grillby pulled out a bottle of pomegranate juice from the fridge and opened up his cabinet, pulling out a bottle of shimmering, pink liquid and vodka, as well as a couple shot glasses. 

“What’s the pink stuff?” 

“It’s called ‘Passionade.’ Clever, I know.” Grillby gave a smokey sounding chuckle before pouring just a dash of it into the shot glasses. He added in careful amounts of vodka and pomegranate juice then opened a drawer and pulled out a small bag of what appeared to be suspiciously similar to crystal meth. 

“And what’s that?”

“It’s a kind of sugar made from river cane that grew in the Underground.” He sprinkled a couple crystals into the drinks and stirred them with a spoon. Curling wisps of faint, pink smoke arose from the glasses. “Normally, a maraschino cherry is put into this, but I don’t have any of those here.”

“That’s fine.” You grinned as Grillby took a seat next to you and handed you your drink. Tentatively, you took a whiff of the pink vapor. It smelled floral and sweet; it smelled like a rose garden with caramelized sugar; it smelled like pomegranates and marshmallow fluff. Intrigued, you took a sip, letting the flavor settle onto your tongue. True to its name, the flavor of the drink hit you like a punch to the tastebuds. It was saccharinely sweet, and you could taste the faint flavor of rosewater. The pomegranate juice was at the forefront of the drink, as was the bite of the vodka. Heat rose to your cheeks in a blush. 

Grillby watched in silence as you finished your drink. “How is it?” 

“It’s really sweet. I’ve never had anything like it before--it’s so good.”

“I can’t make you any more of it tonight. Wouldn’t want you too worked up.” He winked and finished off his glass.

You felt your cheeks burn more hotly as you placed your empty glass on the coffee table. “Y-You said you were going to show me something?” Nervously, you cleared your throat. 

“Do you believe in souls?” Grillby asked simply, reclining further into the cushions. 

“Are you going to say that they’re real?”

“They are. Asgore, our king had asked us to be secretive about it, but I trust you. You have a good soul.”

Shifting uncomfortably, you pursed your lips. “If there are souls, then is there a God? Heaven? Hell?”

Grillby shrugged. “I know that souls are large parts of religions, but the existence of souls doesn’t affirm any of them. Whether or not there’s a supreme being is unknown even to monsters.” 

Your brows furrowed as your brain processed this information. In the few years that monsters had been on the surface, you had never heard anything like this. The monsters had kept their secret well. “You said I have a good soul? How can you tell?”

“I can sense it.” He leaned in a little closer to you. “I can show you, if you would like.”

Taking a deep breath, you slid a hand back over your hair. Could you come face to face with your own soul? You nodded slowly. 

“This may feel a little uncomfortable. Say the word, and we will stop at any time. Are you ready?” Grillby asked gently. 

“I'm ready.” You nodded again. 

Grillby made a beckoning motion with his hand, as if he was trying to draw out a shy animal. You felt a tugging sensation resonate throughout your whole being. It felt like you were a plucked violin string left to vibrate indefinitely. Letting out a shuddering breath, your eyes widened as you watched something get reeled out of your chest. 

What floated before you was a heart-- not an anatomical heart, but the cartoon heart that everyone drew. Its color was rich and deep and it glowed with a muted light. You felt very exposed and you crossed your arms over your chest as if it would conceal your soul again, but it remained floating between you and Grillby. 

“It's beautiful.” He finally said, a softness in his voice. 

“Can I touch it?”

Grillby nodded, and you reached out to grasp your soul, cradling it gently in your palm. You could see the finer details on its surface. It wasn't perfectly smooth. There were scuffs, a small jagged, edge, a shallow dimple, a superficial hairline crack… The more you looked at it, the more you realized the significance of the blemishes and the experiences they represented. This imperfect soul was uniquely you; it was a culmination of your entire being nestled in your hands. 

“What would happen if you touched it?” 

Grillby's face lit up to a bright yellow-white. “It's something deeply personal and hard to describe. You don't let just anybody touch your soul. The soul is presented to those who you trust the most. In monster customs, lovers touch souls when a couple is in a serious relationship. It's considered rude and offensive to touch a soul unsolicited.”

“What does your soul look like?” You brought your soul back to your chest, pushing it back inside where you saw it come out. The feeling of being exposed melted away and you felt oddly complete. 

“Monsters are made of magic and their bodies are extensions of their soul.” He gestured down to himself. 

“Then you have a nice soul too.” You grinned. “Makes me hot under the collar.”

Grillby let out a long, hissing sigh. “I wish that you had never met Sans.” He ran his fingers through the licks of flame on the top of his head. “ _Anyways_ , I can show you a different presentation of my soul.” He placed his hand over his chest and drew forth his own soul. It was similar to yours, but the heart was upside down. The soul was bright and felt hot. You could feel rays of warmth emitting from it. It was like a miniature sun, burning white like the hottest flames. 

“Amazing.” You breathed. Would it burn if it was touched? Not wanting to find out or offend Grillby, you kept your hands in your lap.

With a sigh, Grillby’s soul melded back into his body after a few minutes under your observation. 

“How are you holding up after your drink?” He asked finally. Grillby must have noticed how rosy your cheeks had gotten. 

“I’m… ok.” You replied at length, your voice quavering slightly at the end. Honestly, you tried not to think about it. It was distracting enough with how close Grillby was sitting next to you. You were fighting back the urge to _touch_ , to _cuddle_ , to _kiss_ \-- anything to relieve the hitch of tension in your gut. Having your sould out relieved the urge temporarily, but it had returned shortly after your soul reunited with your body. 

Grillby gave you a knowing look, the white line of his mouth curling up into a smirk. “Are you _sure_?” 

“Well, the drink is affecting me a little.” You conceded. “Not much, though. You diluted it down enough I think.” 

Gently, Grillby reached out to cup the side of your face in his palm. You smiled and nuzzled into his cupped hand. He kissed you. It was a soft, yet firm press of his lips against yours. Grillby was warm, as you expected. You could feel his hot breath on you and his fingers sliding to hold the back of your head to him, sealing himself more tightly against you. One kiss turned into two. Two kisses turned into three. Your chest was on his, and you would have been surprised if he couldn’t feel the pounding of your heart beneath your breast. The blood rushing through your veins felt molten. 

Reluctantly, you pulled away from Grillby to get a few desperate lungfuls of air. Perhaps he didn’t need to breathe, but you had been running out of breath. To Grillby’s chagrin, his skewed glasses fell off of his face and tumbled onto the carpet. He let out a breathy laugh, his fingers combing through your hair. 

“Today has been nice. Thank you for taking me out today.” Grillby pulled you in closer to him so that he had an arm wrapped around your middle while you leaned against him, into his shoulder. It was so comforting to be cuddled up to his warmth as he idly stroked your hair and turned the television on, flicking through the channels before stopping on some mindless Mettaton movie. You hardly paid attention to it; you were so absorbed in Grillby's embrace. Letting out a hum of contentment, you snuggled into him a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are appreciated! I'll see you sinners in the next chapter . For those of you who want to comment on this ending or anything in the story, leave a comment! I would love to read what you think!


	4. Sausage and Eggs  *SMUT*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the optional smut. This is it, sinners: the moment you've all been waiting for.

You're not sure when you fell asleep, but you woke up because the room was uncomfortably bright. Bleary eyed, you gazed at the sliding glass door on the wall opposite. Rays of morning sunlight were cresting over the tops of buildings as the sun continued its ascent in the eastern sky. The light was perfectly angled to bend around the iron bars of the balcony railing to hit you square in the face. 

_Well fuck you, too._ You thought, sitting up slowly. The unfamiliar living room confused you for a moment until you remembered that you were inside Grillby's apartment. You wondered where he was as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and yawned. The television above the fireplace had been turned off, and the fire monster was no longer cuddling with you on the couch. He had instead been replaced with one of the red throw pillows and a plush beige blanket that had been laid over you. 

A thump behind you in the kitchen startled you, and you whirled around. Grillby was grabbing a medium-sized frying pan and switching on his gas stove top. He used his fingertip to ignite it. It took you a moment to realize that he had changed out of his clothes from yesterday. He was wearing what you assumed were his pajamas: a well-fitting black V-neck that accentuated his musculature just right, and a pair of gray sweatpants that sagged on his hips. An open package of sausage, a carton of eggs, a tub of butter, and a bowl of what looked like pancake batter were sitting on the counter next to him. He plopped a spoonful of butter into the pan and placed it on the burner. The butter began to melt and bubble and Grillby tilted the pan, being sure to coat the bottom. When it was nice and greased, he emptied a ladle full of pancake batter onto the pan. 

You quietly padded into the kitchen and leaned onto a counter by him. “How long have you been up?” 

“Only for a few minutes.” His voice was still raspy and deep with sleep. It sounded unbelievably enticing. Your face suddenly felt hot. 

“When did you get off the couch?”

“Sometime in the middle of the night. I figured that you might as well just stay with me for the night since it was so late.” 

“Sorry for falling asleep.” You smiled sheepishly. “You’re really comfortable." 

“I don’t mind.” He replied as he flipped the pancake over. The side you could see was the perfect shade of golden brown. 

Grillby was just as calculated and smooth preparing food as he was mixing drinks behind the bar. In his form fitting shirt, you could clearly see his shoulderblades shifting; you admired the swells of his biceps-- it was enticing. He was solid and so beautiful. His skin swirled with muted and dusky oranges, muted and nearly white yellows, and an undercurrent of a bold red. He reminded you of the Chihuly artwork you had seen the previous day. 

Grillby had paused, noticing your scrutiny. 

“Ah-- sorry, I didn't mean to stare, but--"

Before you could finish your thought, Grillby pulled you forward to wrap your arms around his middle and press you against his back as he cooked. You gave a happy sigh and pressed your cheek between his shoulders. God, he was so warm and perfect for cuddling. You listened to the soft cracks that the licks of flame made on his head and the sound of his cooking. Grillby didn’t have a heartbeat, but he did have a gentle hum that resonated throughout him. All too soon, the cooking was finished, and he served you a hot plate of sausage links, eggs, and two fluffy pancakes covered in warm syrup. You released him to grab a glass of water and the two of you sat down at the kitchen table to eat breakfast. 

It was the best damn breakfast you’d had in months, if not the best breakfast you’d had ever. 

At the end of your meal, you felt something brush against your shin. It was Grillby’s foot. His toes lightly traced a line down from a few inches below your knee to just above your ankle. 

You blinked, your eyes darting up to his. It was hard for you to read the emotions on his face, but the white line of his mouth appeared, and it curled up into a smirk. There was a spark in one of his eyes, and this time you were certain it was a wink. His toes repeated the gesture from the bottom up. 

“Grillby, are you trying to seduce me?” You asked, looking at him with lidded eyes and trying to sound as sultry as you could.

“Perhaps.” He replied coyly. His voice dipped down into a husky sizzle. “What if I was?”

“Then I think we’d have to go into a different room.” You answered, pushing your chair back to stand up. 

Grillby stood up and led you to his bedroom, his hand rubbing up and down your back. You turned and pulled him towards you by his waist, kissing him as he pushed you up against his wall, deepening the kiss. His tongue slid against your bottom lip as your hand grabbed his ass, pressing his groin against you. You could feel his member hardening and you were relieved that you would at least be dealing with familiar anatomy. With a firm tug to your hair, your head tilted back and Grillby left a molten trail of kisses and nips down your neck and to your collarbone. You tugged up the bottom hem of his shirt, and he obliged your silent request, parting from you and removing his shirt as you hastily shed yours. 

Your skin felt heated and your nerves were alive as Grillby kissed you again, this time his tongue dipping into your mouth to rub against yours and you sucked on it softly. He hummed in approval, his fingers lightly trailing up your sides and rubbing across your chest. When the pads of his thumbs rubbed over the buds of your nipples, you let out a soft gasp. Grillby’s chest didn’t have nipples, but your hands roved over his skin in a way you hoped was pleasurable. Raking your fingernails over his back, he gave you a sputtering sigh. You kissed down his chin and along his jawline and down his neck, your lips questing lower until they touched his waistband. 

His fingers laced into your hair as you pulled down his underwear and sweatpants in one fluid motion, his cock coming free. He was hard and of a satisfying length and girth and you couldn’t wait to have it inside you. You took it gently in one hand and gave the sides of his shaft slow, long licks. Grillby gave a delighted shudder and let out a breathy moan when your tongue swirled around the sensitive head. He tasted faintly of ash and he was satisfyingly warm. You looked up at him with a lascivious grin before kissing the crown and sliding him past your lips, your mouth forming a ring around him. Grillby’s fingers tightened a fraction and they digged pleasantly into your scalp. You bobbed your head along him slowly at first and your cheeks hollowed as you sucked. Grillby let out a sigh, his dick pulsing against your tongue. Gradually, you took more and more of him in as you worked faster. You brought your free hand up to cup at and fondle his balls, which made his breath hitch for a brief moment. His breathing quickly became labored pants and he let out more of his husky, crackling moans. 

“Stop.” He finally breathed. “I don’t want to come just yet.”

You obliged Grillby’s request, removing himself from your grasp and standing back up on your feet to remove your garments to finally be naked before him. Gently, he maneuvered you over to his plush bed where he had you sit on the edge and then lay yourself down. He ran his fingers down from your neck to rub and pull gently at your nipples before they slid down further to rub and stroke your genitals. You were so turned on, you felt like a livewire and your hips bucked reflexively when he touched a particularly sensitive place. Grillby brought his head down, his heated tongue laving your sensitive skin. He sucked and licked in precise areas, drawing out pleased mewls and pants from you. 

“Grillby-- _ah!_ Just fuck me.” You couldn’t take it anymore. Your entrance was practically throbbing with need. 

He stood up and hooked your legs over his shoulders and grabbed your thighs, bringing the tip of his cock to tease at your hungry hole. Impatient, you bucked against him, but he angled himself away from you and let out an airy chuckle. Grillby lined himself up against you and gave a quick push into you with his hips, the first few inches of his length entering you. He pushed a little more, and you gasped as he filled you and warmed you from within. His cock thrusted into you at an almost leisurely pace at first as you adjusted yourself. When you were satisfied, you rocked yourself in tandem with him. 

Grillby began to incrementally pick up his pace, the two of you moving together like a well oiled machine. His thrusts became deeper and more satisfying and your hands clenched into the sheets on either side of you. You rutted against each other like animals, the room echoing with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. With smooth motions, Grillby would impale you to the hilt, pull out several inches, and impale you again. The two of you couldn’t hold back the impassioned moans that tumbled from your mouths and you reached down to touch the sensitive areas of your groin as he pounded into you. You were close to the edge now, working yourself up to your climax. You were on the precipice of pleasure, staring down into that abyss when a vigorous push of Grillby’s hips sent you spiraling down. 

You gasped and your back arched and your inner walls spasmed and contracted around Grillby’s cock. His thrusts became frenzied as he fucked you through your orgasm, hurried on by the sounds of your gasps and curses until the rippling of your muscles became too much and he too came, letting out a guttural, popping groan and spilling his hot seed inside of you. He stayed sheathed for a moment longer, panting and throbbing. Finally, he pulled out and lay down next to you on the bed, his chest heaving. The color of his fire dimmed down to a red orange and you knew he was spent. Both of you basked in the afterglow of your climax. Finally, you scooted towards him to drape your arm over his chest to enjoy a post-coitus cuddle. 

Grillby gave a sigh of contentment, pulling you in closer so he could tuck your head under his chin. 

He stroked your hair in a comforting gesture. The humming sound of his body was like a purr the more you listened to it. The soothing feeling of being enveloped in warmth, the energetic rutting, and waking up in the early morning took its toll on you, and you fell asleep again. This was definitely going to be a lazy Sunday. 

When you woke up for the second time that day, it was already midday. Grillby was still nude, and he was awake. He was on his side with his head propped up on his hand and the other was gently stroking down the length of your arm. 

“Hey.” You hummed, stretching your back. “Did you fall asleep too?”

“Yes.” He replied his voice sounded like a light hiss; it was water turning into steam. 

“How long have you been awake?”

Grillby shrugged, his white eyes watching you intently. 

You reached out and traced your finger along his chest muscles, giving him a mischievous smile. 

“It got pretty heated, huh?” You asked cheekily, waggling your eyebrows.

Grillby smiled, but made a show of letting out an exasperated huff and plopping a pillow onto your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are appreciated! Was this your ending? Did you like it? Were the naughty bits well written? Are the character interactions believable? Let me know your thoughts on this work!


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